


Safety Valve

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Series: Screw Drive series [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fucking Machines, Kinky, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-23
Updated: 2010-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone needs to have one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety Valve

**Author's Note:**

> This is part IV of the series and the sequel to "Double Impact".   
> Thanks to Elizabeth Helena for rescuing my English.
> 
> Originally posted December 2004.

It had been one of those days, and McCoy, unable to relax after a critical operation where he'd lost a crewman, had gone into the depths of the Enterprise again. Returning into the room where a handy instrument was ready to be used by those who felt like winding down in a more physical way than by just a sip of Romulan Ale.

The fucking machines were still neatly aligned although, as far as McCoy knew, there hadn't been any double action ever since that night a while ago, when they'd had that unexpected threesome. Scotty and he had been there for a few more times, recording his climactic curve and optimizing the single person mode, but they'd never again been able to reproduce the heat and tension of that night. Scotty was a good buddy, but not one McCoy ever dreamed of as sexual partner.

Now Spock was something completely different. But they hadn't met here ever again either, and McCoy suspected that Spock - if he came here at all - chose a time when the other two were on their shifts. Maybe it was for the better. He couldn't for life of him imagine how Spock and he would interact in everyday business if they had an affair. Heck, he couldn't even imagine sharing a private moment with Spock without quarreling within minutes. It just wouldn't fit. It had been a great encounter and would feed his fantasies for the next few decades, but it had also proven to be completely irreproducible.

McCoy undressed, hanging his clothes loosely over on a nearby chair. Scotty had reactivated the wrist and ankle cuffs again, and so he lay down with the control in reach and secured himself to the bench. He knew there was a certain masochistic note in what he was doing, a bit of self-punishment for some vague guilt of having failed in his profession. But better using it here in a good way and getting it out of his system than chastising himself in sickbay for days.

Some more dialing brought Jeff and the anal plug closer, and McCoy wiggled around for an optimal angle of entry. He wasn't very fond of the milking unit, but the illusion of someone mouth- fucking him was hot. It was still hard to come by prostate stimulation alone, but the struggle was on the nice side of painful, and the result well worth the self-inflicted torture.

Slowly, the dildos entered his orifices and pulled out again. He switched to one of the automatic routines that was coupled with his climax data, and let himself go with the flow when the machine began its work. He wouldn't be able to get away from it before it measured his orgasm, as long as he didn't use the emergency stop. But he had no intention of spoiling his fantasies.

The machine rode him with the utter unfeelingness only a bunch of relays and metal pieces could convey. But he could still imagine Spock being part of this ensemble, could dream of Spock's dick in his mouth, long and full, parting his lips on the way in and out, claiming from him an obedience and devotion he'd never be able to show on any other occasion. The faint taste of the Vulcan's semen seemed to linger on his tongue, but more than that it was the memory of his spicy smell that made his brain tingle.

The anal plug had increased its speed parallel to his arousal, and was mercilessly fucking him now, tormenting his prostate. It made him moan with every impact. A part of him was tempted to stop, knowing that he'd be raw when it was over, but another, stronger part of him claimed that this was what he wanted, needed tonight. And so McCoy remained in his bonds, swimming on an endorphin high on the thin border between pleasure and pain.

At least he swam until the door opened. Unable to turn his head, he didn't know who was coming, but when the boots appeared next to his head, he caught a glimpse of blue, and felt his heart freeze.

Don't ask, he thought frantically. Don't.

A hand closed around his neck, hotter than humanly possible, too harsh for a caress. When the rubber dick left McCoy's mouth, he wanted to say something, but once again Spock stopped him, this time by pressing Jeff back into his mouth, locking it into position.

It was an efficient gag, and an intoxicating weakness spread through McCoy's limbs. It increased when he felt Spock removing the plug too. Sensual pain tingled in his groin when his anal muscle contracted, caused by many small fissures that would claim his medical attention later. But for now, there was the new sensation of a warmer, softer tool intruding into his body, spreading him wider with its bigger diameter. It probed into him until he felt like he was getting staked, his intestines shoved aside by an immovable force that knew no mercy.

Would he flee if he could? Probably.

But he couldn't, and Spock hadn't asked. And he'd be eternally thankful for that.

The ride Spock took him on was every bit as well-paced and emotionless as the one that the machine had delivered, and yet he knew that Spock was aware that he was causing him pain when he took McCoy like this. Spock also didn't give him a hand, but let him suffer all the way to his orgasm. McCoy didn't know if that was because of his wishes, or because Spock had found a nice outlet for his own aggressions against McCoy this way. He'd earned it for sure, McCoy thought...he was losing his temper with Spock much too often, but only ever with him. He wanted to see emotions in Spock's face, goddamn human emotions. He'd give a fortune for it.

But he wouldn't see it tonight. And if he could see Spock's face, Spock wouldn't fuck him. They needed this setting.

All McCoy got from Spock was an emotionless fuck.

And all McCoy wanted from Spock was exactly that, because it was all that he'd be able to handle. Gagged and tied down, there was no danger of saying too much or feeling pressed to reciprocate in some human way, driven by good manners or guilt.

The image of his body under Spock's total control suddenly carried him over the edge, and Spock pressed hard into him, forcing the last ounce of climax out of McCoy's throbbing prostate.

McCoy heard himself whimpering, a small sound due to the rubber dick. His teeth were deeply buried in the material, his jaw clenching it with every new orgasmic wave. He couldn't remember ever having come for so long and so completely, his whole body joining in with unexpected force.

When it was over, his arms slumped. His wrists were aching from the metal cuffs and his neck and jaw were stiff from their unnatural position. Spock pulled out, leaving him with an empty feeling. The cuffs opened and retracted into their slots, but McCoy was too weak to move. Between his buttocks, liquid spread, telling him that Spock had come too. It was irritating, because it spoiled his vision of an emotionless Vulcan fucking machine; it was reassuring because it proved that Spock hadn't done it for everything _but_ sexual reasons.

Steps reached his ear, caused by booted feet that walked out the door, leaving him in sudden silence. McCoy freed himself from the rubber dildo, then sat up. He was trembling, and he wasn't sure why. His body ached more than ever, but he knew he'd return here again...probably eternally and uselessly hoping Spock would return, too.


End file.
